


Shape of You

by Only_angel_28



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A little bit of pining, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Banter, Blow Jobs, Body Image, But when is he not?, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Harry's insecure, I don't know how to tag this, It sounds really smutty but there's a ton of fluff too, Louis don't know what for, Louis is lovely, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Riding, candid discussions of genital size, haha - Freeform, read the summary I guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 12:56:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13904469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Only_angel_28/pseuds/Only_angel_28
Summary: “Seriously?” Surely, Harry must be joking. Louis arches a skeptical brow and snaps the waistband of Harry’s joggers playfully. “What exactly do you have down there, Styles? I know you’ve got four nipples, d’ya have a couple extra bollocks as well or summat?”“No!” Harry shrieks, his voice bordering on shrill.“No,”He repeats a little quieter, calmer, “I just—I’m, er, kinda…big,I guess.”Louis rolls his eyes in fond exasperation. “That’s hardly a problem, curly.”*Or Harry is insecure about a certain rather large part of his anatomy that is apparently intimidating to the point where it has actually scared off potential shags. When he ends up confessing this to his best friend and roommate, Louis takes it upon himself to prove that Harry’s size doesn't have to be a curse, and decides to help show him just how perfect he is.





	Shape of You

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know, man. I have no excuse for this...

 Of all the scenarios Louis had imagined of how he and his best friend/roommate Harry could end up in bed together for the first time, _this_ certainly hadn’t been one of them. It all started on a fairly typical weekend night. Louis and Harry had settled onto the sofa in the lounge of their shared one bedroom flat, preparing to begin their Sunday evening ritual of splitting a bottle of wine and feasting on the leftovers from a week’s worth of takeaway whilst they snuggled up to watch the latest episode of _The Walking Dead_. Everything was business as usual –just two lads enjoying each other’s company and their little weekly roommate tradition – until it wasn’t. 

Louis takes a swig of wine straight from the bottle and passes it to Harry, accepting a carton of chicken lo mein in return. Harry smiles in thanks and tips the bottle back with one hand, a slice of cold pizza in the other. Louis watches on fondly as a bit of wine dribbles down Harry’s chin, then promptly feels that fondness shift into something a little darker – a little more dangerous – when Harry uses his thumb to wipe it away, popping the digit into his mouth to lick off the sticky, bittersweet liquid, his cheeks hollowing enticingly as he sucks his finger clean. 

The thing is, Harry is sort of beautiful, and Louis has a bit of a crush on him. _Okay_ , it’s a little more than just a crush, and Harry is more than just sort of beautiful. In fact, Louis thinks he’s the most attractive person ever to exist, as hyperbolic as that sounds. Like, God was proper showing off when he made Harry Styles. He’s honestly the biggest example of genetic overkill Louis has ever seen. Case in point: does one person really need curls _and_ dimples? _No_ , Louis thinks, _they most certainly do not_. 

But it doesn’t just end there, of course. No, no. Louis, apparently, isn’t deserving of that kind of mercy, because Harry also has plush, perfect, rosy red lips _and_ doe eyes the most mesmerising shade of green, a flawless fair complexion _and_ a jaw line that looks like it was carved out of marble, a long, lean, muscular body _and_ big, strong hands, a deep voice like honey and velvet _and_ the most dazzling smile that literally holds the power to take your breath away. It’s a fucking tragedy for Louis’ mental state, because, again, does one person _really_ need to be in possession of all that? 

Louis figures God must have had a right laugh at his expense when he made Harry. He could almost picture the smug bastard up there rubbing his hands together just waiting for Harry to trip his way into Louis’ life and completely upset the balance of his existence. And to make matters worse, on top of all those qualities that added up to Harry being a perfect specimen of male beauty, he happened to be the most genuine, kind, humble human being as well. The only thing more captivating than his gorgeous face or his sinful body was the brilliance of his sharp mind and the tenderness of his heart. He was pure beauty down to his very soul. 

So, all that to say, Louis quickly averts his eyes from the spectacle of Harry sucking the wine off his thumb, dropping his gaze down to the takeaway container in his lap instead. He twirls his fork into the noodles to distract himself from thoughts of Harry’s lush, obscene mouth and his full, wine-stained lips. 

“I don’t know how you can eat that whilst watching this show.” Harry admits a few minutes later when the opening credits begin, looking adorably puzzled with that darling little crease between his brows and a pretty pout on his ridiculous lips. 

Louis just shrugs – even though he’s practically dying inside with how bloody _cute_ Harry is – and goes back to shoveling lo mein into his mouth, gesturing for Harry to pass him the bottle of wine. Harry obliges, handing over the wine. He waits for Louis to take a drink and set the bottle and his takeaway container aside, then fits his big, warm hands over Louis’ curvy hips and pulls him closer. He latches onto Louis and curls in on himself, trying to make himself small enough to fit under Louis’ arm and mold his body to Louis’ side. It’s adorable really, how Harry can only stand to watch this show with Louis legitimately on top of him, acting as a human shield for Harry to hide behind and burrow into during the gory bits. He’s a very sensitive soul, Harry, and Louis – though mostly unaffected by the onscreen carnage himself – thinks it’s absolutely lovely. He adores how soft and sweet Harry is, and has always felt the urge to protect him. Plus, he’ll take any excuse he can to cuddle with Harry. He has to pretend like he hates it, though, or at least that’s what he tells himself, because he’s worried that if Harry knew how much Louis actually liked being touched by him he wouldn’t be so casual about it anymore. 

So when Harry pulls Louis fully into his lap and cowers behind him during a particularly graphic scene, it’s really no surprise at all when Louis faux-struggles and half-heartedly complains about being manhandled. What _is_ a surprise, however, is Harry’s reaction. 

Louis wiggles around to get comfortable, Harry’s hands still on his hips, guiding him in place, until their combined efforts end up landing Louis directly on top of Harry’s dick. Like, we’re talking _perfect_ alignment. Louis, who is internally panicking, immediately goes into self-preservation mode and employs the most commonly used weapon in his arsenal for navigating tricky or awkward situations: humour. 

“Jesus, Styles,” He teases, “I can’t bloody concentrate on the show with your massive dick poking me arse. Restrain yourself, Harold!” 

He’s joking, _of course he is_. Well, obviously it _is_ rather distracting because Harry feels like he has a very nice, very sizeable cock and it’s not even really hard, yet Louis can still make out the full shape of it against him. So, in conclusion, yes, it’s very distracting indeed, but Harry doesn’t need to know that. After all, it’s just a bit of ribbing between mates, just laddy bro pal fun, that’s all. Louis likes to tease, and Harry is an easy target. Simple as that. 

Only it’s not, apparently, because instead of getting pink-cheeked and adorably flustered and trying to laugh it off like he normally does when Louis teases him, Harry bursts into tears. 

Louis immediately turns himself around in Harry’s lap so he’s straddling him and pulls at Harry’s wrists where the other boy has buried his face in his hands. 

“Whoa, whoa, Hazza babe, what’s wrong? Where’s all this coming from, hmm?” 

“ _Lou_ ,” Harry sobs pitifully, “I’m a—I’m such a freak and no one wants to be with me.” 

“Shh, love,” Louis simpers, finally succeeding in prying Harry’s hands away from his face. “What are you on about? You’re not a freak, and loads of people want to be with you, Harry. You’re so bloody loveable, you have people lining up to be with you.” Louis chuckles a little, hoping it’s not too obvious how jealous that thought makes him feel. “Hell, every time we go out I’m practically beating them off with a stick.” 

It’s true. Everyone wants a piece of Harry. Louis is just one in a long line of unfortunate souls who have fallen for Harry’s charms. There should be some kind of support group or summat ( _raise your hand if you’ve ever felt personally victimised by Harry Styles.)_ The whole bloody world would be in attendance. He’s fucking irresistible. 

“No, Lou, no one wants to _be_ with me. Like, every time I go to hook up with someone they freak out when they see my, erm, my… _you know_ ,” Harry loosely gestures at his crotch and Louis has to swallow down a snort at how utterly adorable he is. He’s so fucking _innocent_ sometimes. It’s way more endearing than it has any right to be. “…and they practically run away screaming. Back in sixth form, one girl actually said, ‘don’t come near me with that thing.’ It’s so humiliating.” 

“Seriously?” Surely, Harry must be joking. Louis arches a skeptical brow and snaps the waistband of Harry’s joggers playfully. “What exactly do you have down there, Styles? I know you’ve got four nipples, d’ya have a couple extra bollocks as well or summat?” 

“No!” Harry shrieks, his voice bordering on shrill. “ _No_ ,” He repeats a little quieter, calmer, “I just—I’m, er, kinda… _big_ , I guess.” 

Louis rolls his eyes in fond exasperation. “That’s hardly a problem, Curly.” 

“You’d think that, but it becomes one when no one can blow you without gagging and when no one will shag you because they’re afraid of you hurting them.” 

“Surely, it can’t be _that_ bad. I mean, how big are you exactly?” 

Harry rakes his fingers through his curls, tugging agitatedly at the roots of his hair. Louis sighs and reaches up to gently pull Harry’s hand away before he ends up prematurely bald. He’s so infuriatingly gorgeous, he could probably pull even _that_ off, but Louis is rather fond of his curls, so. 

“I don’t know, Lou. It’s not as if I’ve, like, _measured_ ,” He replies, all pink-cheeked and self-conscious. He does a sort of clumsy waving motion with one of his massive hands, nearly knocking Louis out in the process, then shrugs. “Big enough, I guess.” 

“Show me.” 

 _Oh, shit_. Did he seriously just say that? Did those words really just come out of his mouth? What the actual fuck is he doing? 

Harry looks about as shocked as Louis feels. “What?” He stammers, green eyes huge and glassy with an emotion Louis can’t quite put his finger on. It almost looks like, dare he even say it… _hope_? 

“Show me,” Louis repeats slowly, grasping at a sense of calm that he doesn’t actually feel. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? “I’ve been with enough guys who considered themselves well-endowed. I’ll tell you if you have reason to be concerned.” 

Harry chews his lip some more, clearly engaged in some kind of internal debate over how to respond. “What, just pull my cock out?” 

“Mmhmm,” Louis hums. _In for a penny_ … 

“Right here? Now?” 

“Why not?” Louis shrugs. “You don’t have to, babe, but it’s not like I’m going to judge you or anything.” 

“Okay,” Harry concedes with a nod, apparently having made up his mind, “but you have to promise me you won’t laugh.” 

So, they’re doing this then. 

“Harry, I’m not some blushing virgin. This isn’t my first time seeing a dick, and it’s not like you’re a freak of nature or summat.” 

“Maybe you should reserve judgment until after you’ve, you know, _seen_ it.” 

 _Oh my god_ , they’re really doing this. 

“If you’re trying to scare me off, it’s not working, love. If anything, I’m only more curious now.” 

“Okay, shit. But I’m not—erm, I need to be _hard_ for you to get the full effect, and be able to really, like, grasp the problem.” 

“Stop calling your dick a problem, Haz. And if you did want me to ‘grasp the problem’ that would certainly solve the issue of you not being hard, yeah?” 

 _Oh, boy_. Louis is–Louis is saying so many things. The words are spilling out of his mouth like sand through a sieve and he is powerless to stop them. 

“You mean you want to—like, you’d _touch_ me?” Harry squeaks incredulously, as if the mere thought that Louis might actually want to is an absurd and foreign concept he can’t seem to make sense of. 

Louis coughs a little nervously into his fist. God, that’s such a _Harry_ move. That loveable dork is starting to rub off on Louis, and— _fuck_ , soon he might literally be rubbing off on Louis. _Double fuck_. 

“Unless you’d rather do it yourself. Would that make you more comfortable?” 

“No, I-I think I want you to do it. I want you to touch me.” 

 _I want you to touch me_. Is Louis awake right now? Is he even breathing? He must be asleep, because _that_ is something that Harry only says to him in his dreams. 

No matter, he can do this. He can _totally_ do this. Harry’s just going to get naked and let Louis touch his dick. No big deal, right? He conjures up every ounce of confidence he possesses and says, “get your kit off then, babe. Let’s see the goods.” 

“No, Lou, you can’t look until I’m—” He makes another vague gesture towards his groin, eyes skirting Louis’ in obvious embarrassment. “Okay?” 

His refusal to say _hard_ is the most maddeningly adorable thing. How can someone who’s positively dripping with sex also be so innocent? It’s yet another bullet point on the perceivably endless list of things about Harry Styles that shouldn’t make sense but somehow do. Rules just don’t seem to apply to him. 

“Whatever makes you feel comfortable, Haz. Just, erm, tell me when you’re ready.” 

Louis climbs off Harry’s lap so the boy can get his pants and joggers off, and squeezes his eyes tightly shut whilst he waits. His heart is beating so hard he can feel his pulse pounding behind his eyelids. How the fuck did he even get himself into this situation? _Oh, right, it’s because of his inability to control his big mouth as per usual._ So to review, Louis’ got a big mouth, and Harry, apparently, has got a big dick. It sounds like a match made in heaven really.

Harry coughs, the sofa dipping under his weight as he sits back down and shifts around nervously. “ ‘M ready.” 

“You sure you want to do this, love?” Louis queries, just to be sure. It would be helpful if he could actually see Harry’s face in order to read the emotions there, but alas, he’ll just have to trust his instincts. 

“ ‘M sure,” Harry replies. And he does sound sure. 

“Okay,” Louis concedes with a small nod, “can you put my hand on you?” 

Harry is quiet; the only sound in the room is the faint rustling of the fabric from the sofa cushions as he moves, reaching out for Louis’ hand. When their fingertips touch, there is an actual electric current that jumps between their two bodies, shocking them both. 

“Sorry,” Harry mutters, sounding sheepish. As if it’s his fault, as if the phenomenon of static electricity is something he can even remotely control. 

“S’alright, love, nothing to be sorry about. Put my hand where you want it, yeah?” 

Harry curls his huge hand around Louis’ smaller one and slowly, hesitantly, guides it between his thighs. And then Louis is touching Harry’s dick. _Holy shit_. It’s mostly soft, which is the whole reason why Louis is supposed to touch it in the first place, but even so, he can tell that it is indeed _big_. He licks his lips reflexively, his throat clicking with a harsh swallow. 

“Promise you’ll tell me immediately if you want me to stop, okay?” 

“Mhm,” Harry mumbles, and Louis can’t see him with his eyes still closed, obviously, but he thinks he’s probably nodding his head. 

Louis is so disgustingly fond of him, it’s ridiculous. Just the deep rumble of his voice, sounding so overwhelmed already, is enough to nearly split Louis’ face with the width of his smile. “I need to hear you say it, babe. Promise me.” 

“I promise, Lou,” Harry informs him resolutely. 

“Good boy,” Louis praises. “Now, tell me how you like it, darling.” 

Harry blows out a breath, his lips buzzing. _Adorable_. He starts babbling and Louis knows the exact expression he’s wearing on his face: head slightly tilted to the left, jaw flexing and dimple popping out with the movement as he taps his lips contemplatively with his forefinger, nose scrunching up when he sniffles and goes to scratch absently at the side of it. Louis knows him – every nuance and idiosyncrasy – he’s the most beautiful, quirky little thing. 

“I, erm, I like it kinda slow and, er…loose, I guess?” He finally manages to articulate through his endless stuttering. “Like, I like to be teased a bit. You know, build it up and then pull back?” 

 _Shit_. Is Harry seriously asking Louis to fucking _edge_ him right now? How is that a thing that is happening? How is _any_ of this happening? What is Louis’ life? 

“Like this?” He asks as he runs a single finger up the length of Harry’s shaft – the touch whisper soft – and rolls the head of his dick between his thumb and forefinger. Feeling Harry get hard right there in his hand is unlike anything Louis has ever experienced. He can’t even _see_ Harry and he’s already so turned on he’s dizzy and his own dick is hard and aching where it’s trapped in his joggers. 

“ _F-fuck_ ,” Harry moans, loud and completely unabashed. “ _Yes_. Just like that.” 

Louis continues to play with Harry’s cock – loosely fisting his length, lightly squeezing and caressing just the head, tracing the slit with the tip of his finger – until Harry is panting and whining and desperately fucking up into Louis’ hand. 

“Lou,” Harry whimpers brokenly, an indecipherable plea hidden within that one word. 

“What do you need, baby?” 

Harry’s breath hitches at the endearment, the sound of it an audible scrape in the charged air hanging between them. The tension is so deliciously thick, the atmosphere heavy with a dense, heady kind of humidity that fills Louis’ lungs with water and makes him feel like he’s drowning. Drowning in _Harry_.   

“ _Mmm_ … _nngghh_ … _Lou_ , ‘m gonna come.” 

And Louis wants that. He wants to watch Harry’s face – cataloging every flutter of his lashes, every twitch of his brows, every indent left behind by his teeth in his swollen lower lip – as he falls apart in Louis’ hands. He wants to drink in every sweet, desperate cry from Harry’s lips as he rides out the waves of ecstasy, to feel every quiver and pulse of Harry’s body beneath his fingertips, to know how his own name sounds falling from Harry’s lips and how it tastes on Harry’s tongue. He wants it all. _God, does he ever_. But first— 

“Shh, slow down, love. I haven’t even had a chance to see you yet. Let me look at you, yeah?” 

“O-okay.” 

“Oh, _baby_ ,” Louis moans upon opening his eyes to get his first glimpse at Harry. And it’s not that he hasn’t seen a good-sized dick before, and it’s not that Harry’s some freak of nature, although he is certainly well above average, but just— _fuck_. Louis is a pretty good size himself – perfectly adequate in the length department and decidedly above average as far as thickness goes (or so he’s been informed) but Harry is on another level entirely, and Louis, he’s—he might actually be drooling. “Darling, you’re perfect.” 

Harry smiles, eyes cast down modestly like he doesn’t know how beautiful he is. He clearly doesn’t. 

“Yeah?” He breathes, raising his chin minutely to look up at Louis from beneath his lashes, the very picture of bashful beauty. His eyes are wide with incredulity, yet so bright with excitement, like he’s just as afraid as Louis is of how much he wants this – whatever _this_ is that’s happening between them. “You really think so? You’re not just saying that?” 

“Harry, let me assure you, that is a very, _very_ nice cock you have there, and anyone who can’t see that is fucking mental. Mental and fucking _blind_.” 

“ ‘S not too big?” 

“No, you’re proper massive, Haz, don’t get me wrong, but that is in no way a bad thing. Fuck, I don’t know what kind of daft idiots you’ve been pulling, but I, personally, would love to have something that big inside me. I’d be thrilled to get fucked by someone your size.” 

Harry purses his lips, sucking the lower one all the way into his mouth and gnawing at it frantically. Louis can practically see the wheels turning in Harry’s head as his eyes flit all over Louis’ face like he’s too overwhelmed to keep them focused on one feature for too long. He waits patiently, giving Harry time to work up the courage to say whatever it is he’s thinking. When he finally does speak, his voice is small – still low and deep, but more timid than Louis has ever heard it before. “Can I?” He pleads, looking both vulnerable and earnest with his brows drawn together over green _green_ eyes. “Lou, please, can I fuck you?” 

Louis’ world caves in on itself just a bit. It was one thing when he thought he was going to get to see Harry naked, it was another when Harry asked Louis to touch him, but this might be beyond the scope of what Louis’ fragile little heart is able to bear. He’s dreamt of a moment like this on countless occasions since becoming Harry’s roommate, and none of those dreams even begin to compare to the reality of actually hearing _those_ words in _that_ tone from Harry’s lips. 

“Shit, you want to?” He asks dubiously, feeling like he’s going to wake up any minute now and watch all this slip through his fingertips. Surely, there’s a catch. He’s never been this lucky. 

Harry nods eagerly. “Maybe it will help. Maybe I’m doing something wrong and you could tell me?” 

And _oh_ , that’s…okay. The catch Louis was waiting for? There it is. He almost forgot the reason why they’re doing this in the first place. Harry is one of those people who’s so easy to get caught up in, and for a moment Louis had allowed himself to be swept away by the fantasy of this all being real. He may be signing his own death warrant here, sealing his own fate, but he’ll take whatever Harry is willing to give him, even if it only ends in pain. Call him a masochist or a sucker for punishment, but having his heart broken by Harry Styles seems more like a privilege than a misfortune. Because if Harry were to break his heart, that would mean that for a period of time (no matter how fleeting) it would have belonged to him completely. After all, a heart that’s been broke is a heart that’s been loved. You can’t dispute that logic, fucking _Ed Sheeran_ wrote that. Which, to Louis, is as sound an argument as any as to the validity of that claim. So with a feeble smile and his heart in his hands, he looks to Harry and says, “I sincerely doubt that, but there’s only one way to find out I ‘spose.” 

He feels like he’s betting the house before even turning his cards over to see his hand, but in reality he’s gambling with something infinitely more precious – his heart. If they’re going to do this, if Louis is truly going to put his heart on the line like this, then he is damn well going to give it his all. He’s going to make it so the image of them together is burned into Harry’s retinas, so that every time he closes his eyes all he’ll be able to see is Louis. He’s going to leave kisses like scars on Harry’s skin, and make sure the soundtrack of their passion is cemented in Harry’s mind like a song he can’t get out of his head. He’s going to be _unforgettable_. 

He slinks off the sofa with a coy smirk, slipping down to the floor so he’s on his knees between Harry’s spread thighs. The sudden change in the pattern of Harry’s breathing is to be expected, but it’s thrilling none-the-less. His eyes seem to darken with lust, and Louis didn’t know that was a thing that actually happened, but apparently with Harry it is. _Go figure_. He should really stop underestimating this boy and all the ways he can systemically tear down any pre-conceived notions Louis had about what sex with him would be like. So far it’s both everything and nothing like what he expected. Fantasy is nice and all, but reality is so much fucking better.

“Lou,” Harry gasps, lip caught between his teeth again, “what are you doing?” 

“There’s something I want to try first,” Louis replies. His eyes dart pointedly to Harry’s cock, and his mouth starts to water. “You said no one could suck you off without gagging, yeah?” 

Harry nods, looking cautiously optimistic that this is all leading to where he most likely hopes it is. Louis is not going to disappoint him. Quite the opposite, in fact – he’s going to blow his fucking mind. Pun fully intended. 

He licks his lips lasciviously in a cheap ploy to draw attention to them. Harry falls for it hook, line, and sinker, his eyes widening that much more as he gazes down at Louis with unconcealed lust. Louis indulges in one more thorough pass of his tongue along the seam of his mouth, then smirks up at Harry with his best bedroom eyes – fluttering lashes, heavy lids, blown pupils, the works. “Let me prove you wrong,” He purrs seductively. 

He doesn’t give Harry the chance to respond. Forgoing any semblance of teasing, he opens his mouth wide and sucks Harry down eagerly until the head of his dick hits the back of Louis’ throat. He closes his eyes in concentration, willing away what little of a gag reflex he has as he breathes heavily through his nose and focuses on taking in as much as he can. His lips meet his hand where he’s fisting the base of Harry’s cock, and he swallows, feeling his throat muscles constrict around Harry’s length. 

There’s no other way to describe it, Harry just—he fucking _falls apart_. He throws his head back and groans, the sound of it deep and guttural as it rumbles through his chest and rips out of his throat. He practically melts into the sofa, looking for all intents and purposes like his bones have been liquefied as his whole body goes loose and pliant at the feel of Louis’ mouth on him. And Louis—Louis _loves_ this. He loves how powerful he feels pleasuring someone like this, pleasuring _Harry_ like this. He may be the one on his knees, but Harry is completely at his mercy and _that_ is an intoxicating feeling. Drunk with the knowledge that he has reduced the world’s most beautiful boy to a shuddering, incoherent mess within mere _seconds_ , Louis sets his brow in determination – ready to pull out every technique in his metaphorical bag of tricks to show Harry what he’s been missing. 

He tightens his lips, increasing the suction, as he drags them back up the length of Harry’s shaft until just the head of his cock remains in Louis’ mouth. He looks up at Harry, trapping him in his gaze like a dragonfly in amber as he licks at his slit. 

“ `M gonna wreck you,” Louis promises, his voice already fucked from having Harry in his throat even for just that short amount of time. “Gonna give you what you deserve.” 

“Lou,” Harry whimpers weakly, looking completely overwhelmed as he throws an arm over his eyes. 

“Do you know what you deserve, baby?” Louis chides as he pumps Harry’s cock slowly. Harry makes another incoherent sound from behind his elbow – his face turned into his arm so he’s biting at his own bicep. “You’re such a good boy, Harry, and do you know what good boys deserve?” 

Harry keens and shakes his head vigorously – face flushed, curls a hot fucking mess. 

“ _The best_ ,” Louis informs him as he continues to languidly stroke his cock. “Good boys like you deserve only the best, so that’s what you’re going to get. I’m going to be the best you’ve ever had.” 

“Already are,” Harry pants desperately, peering down at Louis from behind the crook of his arm. “You’re already the best.” 

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, love.” Louis winks. He stills his hand on Harry’s cock, gripping it firmly so he can rub the head teasingly over his lips, smearing the precome there until his mouth is wet and messy. He looks up at Harry coquettishly from beneath his lashes and darts his tongue out to slowly lick away the translucent substance, closing his eyes and moaning indulgently at the taste. “Fuck, baby, you taste _so_ good.” 

Harry babbles something incoherent and shifts around restlessly on the sofa. His hips buck up without warning, surprising Louis when Harry’s cock pushes back into the wet heat of his mouth. 

Harry pulls out immediately with an apologetic grimace. “Oops! Fuck! Sorry, ‘m so sorry, Lou. I didn’t mean—” 

Louis flexes his jaw and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, offering Harry a reassuring smile. “ ‘S okay, baby. Feels good, yeah?” Harry nods eagerly and Louis chuckles at how lovely and earnest he is. “You wanna fuck my mouth?”

“ _Shit_. No one’s ever—fucking hell, Lou. Are you sure?” 

“Mhm,” Louis hums and reaches down to fondle Harry’s balls, rolling them gently in his hand. “Want you to. I can take it, Harry.” 

Harry tosses his head back and rakes both hands through his hair, chest heaving. “Jesus, Lou. You’re too much. ‘M not gonna last.” 

“Let me know when you’re close then. Still want you to fuck me.” 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry swears under his breath, reaching out to cup Louis’ cheek. His hand is shaking as he uses it to clumsily trace Louis’ jaw then pushes it back into Louis’ hair. 

Louis leans into the tender touch, warmth flooding his body and excitement humming in his veins like an electric current. He turns his head to nuzzle Harry’s pulse point, satisfied by how fast it’s racing, then purposefully folds his hands behind his back. “Whenever you’re ready gorgeous,” he encourages gently, sitting back on his heels and opening his mouth once more in invitation. 

“Fuck,” Harry repeats. Louis thinks it might be the only word his brain is capable of processing at the moment, and that makes him feel incredibly smug. Harry visibly shakes himself and reaches for his cock, scooting forward to the edge of the sofa until it’s poised against Louis’ lips. He rubs it over Louis’ lower lip once, groaning when Louis chases after it with his tongue, his green eyes glazing over as he tracks the motion of it. 

“Tap my thigh or something if you need me to stop, okay? I’m serious, I don’t want to hurt you, Lou.” 

Louis nods, letting his lips drag over the sensitive head of Harry’s cock as he does. Harry curses quietly, takes a deep breath, and guides himself into Louis’ mouth. One of his hands comes up to clasp the back of Louis’ head, tangling his fingers in his hair to massage his scalp as he gently holds him in place and starts to thrust. It’s tentative at first, his movements shallow and controlled. He’s obviously afraid of hurting Louis, and as such is working hard to keep himself in check, but Louis doesn’t want that. He wants Harry to lose himself in the pleasure of it and just let go. He looks him dead in the eyes and moans around his cock, hoping that will get the message across. It does. 

“Oh, fuck, Lou,” Harry cries out as he gets a little bolder, his hips starting to speed up. “ _Oh my god_ —your mouth, Louis. Oh shit, you look so fucking gorgeous like this. Shit, ‘m gonna come.” 

Louis squeezes Harry’s thigh and pulls off, saliva running down his chin, “Can you come again?” 

“Huh?” Harry slurs, sounding totally dazed. 

Sex drunk Harry is a whole new level of adorable and Louis just isn’t prepared to deal with that shit right now. He rolls his eyes fondly and lets out a breathless giggle. “If I let you come down my throat now, can you get it up again to fuck me?” He clarifies. 

Harry nods fervently. 

“Good boy. Such a beautiful, perfect boy. You can come whenever you want to, baby,” Louis informs him sweetly before he licks his lips and quickly sinks back down on his cock. 

It takes less than thirty seconds for Harry to lose all finesse, the movement of his hips disjointed and sloppy as he thrashes his head about and moans obscenely. Louis is about to come too, just from listening to it and seeing what he’s done to Harry, what a beautiful mess he’s made of the boy. 

“ _Louis, Louis,_ _Louis_ ,” Harry chants, getting progressively louder with each iteration until he’s practically screaming. “Yes, _fuck_ yes!” 

With one last strangled cry of Louis’ name Harry comes down Louis’ throat. He starts to pull out about halfway through, but Louis reaches around and squeezes his arse to hold him in place, greedily swallowing everything Harry gives him. 

“Oh god,” Harry pants, collapsing back onto the sofa when he’s finally finished. 

“Mm, not quite,” Louis replies cheekily, “although, I did promise you there would be a second coming.” 

Harry buries his face in his hands and groans, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. 

“Alright, love?” Louis smirks, crawling onto the sofa and settling between Harry’s legs to kiss over his thighs. 

“I think you’ve broken me.” He giggles, peeking at Louis from between his fingers. 

“That’s a shame,” Louis muses thoughtfully, “I was really looking forward to riding you into the mattress.” 

“Fuck, Lou. You’re making me hard again.” 

Louis tips his head back and laughs, “That’s sort of the point, innit love? Don’t tell me I actually made you come your brains out, because I’ll be honest, curly, you don’t have a lot going for you without your intelligence. Not like you’ve got much in the way of looks or personality.” 

“Heeeyyy!” Harry whines. “Don’t be mean.” 

“It’s called sarcasm, sweetheart,” Louis chides teasingly. He kisses across the valley between Harry’s hips and smirks up at him with another fond eye roll. “You know I think you’re beautiful, baby. Inside and out.” 

Harry blushes sweetly, and bites down on his grin. Louis can feel the other boy’s cock stiffening up again where it’s trapped between them. His own cock is painfully hard at this point, and there’s a noticeable dark patch at the front of his joggers where he’s leaked through them from how wet he is. 

He kisses his way up Harry’s torso, stopping to lavish attention on his nipples and reveling in the sharp intake of breath the move earns him. He teases him mercilessly with his tongue, licking and sucking incessantly until Harry begins to writhe and pant beneath him. He can feel the insistent press of Harry’s cock – fully hard once more – against his abdomen, so he continues kissing up Harry’s neck until his lips are right at his ear and whispers, “take me to bed, Styles.” 

Harry doesn’t waste any time. His hands come up to grip the back of Louis’ thighs and he holds him tightly to his body as he hurriedly gets to his feet and stumbles towards their bedroom. He melts Louis’ heart with all that sweet, clumsy enthusiasm – like a newborn fawn taking its first steps into the world. 

Just outside the door, he slams Louis’ back against the wall and starts grinding into him as he tugs at his shirt, trying to get it off. Harry is naked from the waist down, but Louis is still fully clothed, and that just won’t do apparently. Harry whines in frustration as he struggles to remove Louis’ shirt, and Louis indulges himself momentarily, just watching how cute Harry is, looking like a disgruntled kitten as he paws ineffectually at the fabric. 

“Need a hand, love?” Louis smirks. 

“Off, Lou. Get this _off_ ,” Harry growls. 

Mm, perhaps he’s more of a tiger than a kitten, then. Louis is intrigued. 

He takes pity on Harry and whips his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor and immediately moving to rid Harry of his as well. When their naked skin touches, it’s like something just snaps inside of Harry, and his eyes bore into Louis’ with an intensity that makes Louis feel like he’s on fire. His gaze is hungry, wanton, _ravenous_ , and Louis wants to burn in it all day. He wants Harry to _devour_ him. 

Harry readjusts his grip on Louis’ thighs, pulling away from the wall and crossing the threshold into their room. “Yours or mine?” He rasps out, eyes flitting between his bed on the left side of the room and Louis’ bed on the right. 

“Mmm, yours is closer,” Louis purrs. 

Harry smirks mischievously and tosses Louis onto his bed. 

“So it is,” he agrees as he crawls up the mattress, looking every bit like a predator hunting his prey. _Shit_ , Louis is really going to enjoy this. 

Louis teases him – licking his lips invitingly and crooking his finger whilst scooting back towards the headboard as Harry advances on him. He stops Harry with a hand on his chest, then playfully tugs on the necklace he’s wearing to bring him closer. He was going to ask if Harry wanted him to prep himself, but he feels emboldened by this new, voracious version of Harry, and instead says, “get me naked, baby. Want your fingers.” 

It turns out Harry _“Slow As Fuck”_ Styles has the gift of super speed and he’s just been hiding it all this time because Louis has never seen him move faster than when he goes to yank Louis’ joggers off. Apparently all he needed was the proper motivation to unleash it. Who knew? Now Louis knows what to use as an incentive next time Harry is taking forever to pick out an outfit before they go to the pub or when he’s taking approximately four years to tell a story that Louis could have recounted in four minutes. He’ll just say, “get me naked, baby,” and voila! On second thought, that might actually slow them down even more, so perhaps not. Would be worth it though, Louis thinks. 

“Shit, Lou,” Harry mutters when he divests Louis of his joggers only to discover he’s not wearing anything beneath them, “look at you.” 

Louis’ cheeks burn a little at all the attention being lavished on him. This has been all about Harry so far, and it makes him feel a bit restless to have the spotlight shifted onto him now instead. “It may not be as big as yours,” he jokes, once again using humour to cover his insecurity, “but it gets the job done.” 

Harry shakes his head like he knows exactly what Louis is doing and he’s having none of it. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” he says firmly – tone inviting no argument, eyes fixed on Louis’. 

“Thank you,” Louis whispers sincerely, allowing for a rare moment of vulnerability before he snaps back to his normal, cheeky self. “I would say, ‘flattery will get you everywhere,’ but it won’t actually get your fingers in my arse, so…” 

Harry giggles, the sound so syrupy sweet that Louis wants to lick it from his mouth and taste it on his honeyed lips. _God, he’s so lovely._ He leans down and presses a chaste kiss to the tip of Louis’ cock, blinking up at him innocently with his wispy lashes and big doe eyes, and then stretches his long, lean body over Louis to reach into his bedside table for his bottle of lube. 

He’s such an endearing mix of confidence and vulnerability – trembling hands as he fumbles to slick up his fingers and cocky smirk when he hits Louis’ prostate almost immediately once they’re inside. He’s efficient, but thorough, as he works Louis open, and in no time at all he’s three fingers deep with Louis riding them desperately and begging for his cock. 

“Fuck me. Fuck me. _Fuck me_ ,” Louis chants, arching his back off the bed to draw Harry’s fingers further inside him. “Harry, _please_.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Harry nods. “Let me just—” 

He pulls out his fingers and stretches over Louis again, and Louis tries not to whine when his hole clenches around nothing. He reaches down to lazily stroke his cock whilst he waits for Harry. He can hear him rummaging around in his bedside table again, cursing quietly as he presumably searches for a condom. He makes an adorably triumphant noise, a little _aha!_ when he finds what he’s looking for then turns back to Louis with a lop-sided, victorious smirk. It melts right off his face the second he takes in the scene awaiting him. His eyes are dark and glossy – glazed over with lust, misty with desire, as he watches Louis touch himself. He fumbles with the condom, dropping it twice before he finally manages to get it on because he won’t tear his eyes away from Louis biting his lip and teasing his cock with feather-light strokes. 

His mouth opens and closes a few times with no sound coming out before he finally succeeds in pushing the words past his lips. “Hands and knees?” He squeaks. 

Louis considers this for a moment, his own brain slow on the uptake. “Thought you were going to let me ride you?” He challenges with an arch of his brow. 

“Can we just start out like that to see if you can take me? I don’t want to hurt you, Lou.” 

Coming from anyone else that would have sounded so cocky and ridiculous and Louis would have scoffed, but he knows that Harry is genuinely concerned with his comfort and well-being. He’s not being presumptuous, and it’s clear now that he truly is insecure about his size. Louis would like to punch every arsehole who ever made him feel that way, but then again they probably wouldn’t be doing this if he felt otherwise. Still, Louis hates to think of Harry as anything less than proud of his nice little body (and his not so little cock.)

“Yeah, alright, babe. We can do that,” he acquiesces with a small grin, turning over and pushing up onto his knees for Harry. 

The bed creaks as Harry moves in behind him, gently pushing his thighs apart so he can settle between them. He reaches out to stroke his hand over the swell of Louis’ bum, ending the touch with a gentle pat to let him know he’s there. “Okay?” He murmurs softly, caressing Louis’ cheeks. 

“Peachy, darling,” Louis affirms playfully. 

Harry laughs quietly – a little breathy, a little nervous, absolutely gorgeous. His hands tremble when he goes to spread Louis open, his breath catching in his throat like a snag in lace. “Okay—shit, here goes.” 

At first all Louis feels is the pad of Harry’s thumb, pulling at his rim, but then there’s tight, unrelenting pressure as the head of Harry’s cock snubs up against him. It takes a few tries before Harry’s able to get it in properly, because, despite the meticulous fingering, Louis is still tight, and Harry’s slick and his hand is shaking where he’s gripping himself. Louis gasps at the stretch when Harry finally breaches him, but arches his back into it so Harry knows he wants more. 

Harry sighs contentedly and whimpers out a broken little cry of, “ _Lou_.” 

His right hand is an anchor on Louis’ hip, grounding and steady as he rubs soft, soothing circles into Louis’ skin to comfort him whilst he edges a little further in. After a few minutes of slow, delicious torture wherein Harry stops approximately every other second to make sure Louis is okay, Harry’s hips finally rest flush against Louis’ arse, the whole of his massive cock sheathed inside. 

Harry lets out a shaky breath and clears his throat. “Okay, I’m in— _shit_ , Lou, you’re taking all of me. Are you okay? Am I hurting you? Should I stop? Do you want me to pull out?” 

“Shh, Hazza, love, I’m fine,” Louis shushes him gently, reaching back and squeezing Harry’s hand on his hip to reassure him. He definitely feels full, but it’s not painful. In fact, he has this bizarre urge to press down on his belly, just to really feel how deep Harry is inside him. He trails the hand that’s covering Harry’s over his abdomen to do just that, and immediately moans at the resulting sensation. “Better than fine actually,” he amends with a breathless gasp. “Fuck, babe, you feel fucking amazing. ‘S so, _so_ good.”

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Harry worries, still sounding uncertain. “ ‘Cause you’re like really, _really_ tight and I—”

“Relax, love,” Louis chuckles. “I’m not that tight, you’re just big.”

Harry laughs without humour, his fingers flexing on Louis’ hip nervously. “That’s kind of the problem, Lou. Remember?”

Louis rolls his eyes even though Harry can’t see him. “Ideal kind of problem to have if ‘m honest.”

“So you don’t mind? You don’t want me to, like, _stop_?”

“No I don’t mind, Haz. And as far as stopping goes…don’t you bloody dare.”

Harry giggles and Louis feels it everywhere. His left hand lights on Louis’ skin, caressing over his rib cage and then curling into a loose fist so he can run his knuckles up and down Louis’ side. Louis shivers and drops his head between his shoulders as Harry continues to stroke him tenderly. Every drag of his knuckles feels like a magnet drawing all of Louis’ nerve endings to the surface of his skin. He never knew such a small, simple touch could be so electrifying, but with Harry nothing is inconsequential. Everything is cosmic and rapturous and devastating, and Louis is helpless to do anything but just let it overwhelm him. He’s trapped in the reverie of it, frozen on the bed whilst Harry lays waste to each and every one of his expectations.

“Should I—can I move?” Harry asks, slotting his fingers into the spaces between Louis’ ribs.

“Yes,” Louis blurts out hoarsely. “Please, please move.”

Harry straightens up a little, hands dropping down to grip at Louis’ hips again. His touches are still so careful – soft, _tender_ – not controlling or demanding. Louis feels a warm surge of pleasure permeate his chest at being treated with such care, not like he’s weak or fragile, but like he’s _precious_. There’s a fine line between gentleness and infantilism, and Harry is navigating it perfectly, making Louis feel cherished and respected without coddling him.

He holds Louis in place to give his first couple thrusts, and Louis’ vision all but whites out. It’s so good already, the slow, sensual drag of Harry’s cock catching in all the right places and propelling Louis towards euphoria. Harry fucks just like he speaks – slowly, deliberately, passionately, earnestly – and it’s _a lot_.

“Mm, baby,” Louis moans, rocking back to meet Harry’s next thrust, wanting to give just as good as he’s getting. It works if Harry’s deep, deliciously husky moan is anything to go by.

“Fucking hell, Lou. Your arse is—” Harry trails off, overwhelmed, and Louis has to turn his head to see what’s got him so affected.

He finds Harry staring down at where they’re joined, watching his dick disappear into Louis’ arse with wide-eyed fascination. He removes one of his hands from Louis’ hip so he can rub over the curve of his arse, cupping it in his hand and marveling at the way it fits so perfectly there. He squeezes it just as the head of his cock brushes over Louis’ prostate, and Louis’ arms shake with the effort of holding himself up.

“C’mon, give it to me, baby,” Louis implores desperately. “Want it nice and slow.” It’s true, he wants to drag out the pleasure as long as possible.

Harry obliges with a grunt, pushing in to the hilt then drawing back slowly until only the very tip of his cock remains inside and then repeating the process all over again.

“Yes… _ah_ , that’s it. Deeper, Harry. _Just like that_ …yes, yes, _fuck_ , Harry,” Louis cries as his arms finally give out. He drops down to his elbows and moans loudly when it has the advantageous effect of changing the angle so Harry is hitting his spot with every pump of his hips.

“Oh, _oh_ —Harry. Fuck, baby. _Fuck_. Love how you fill me up. Never had better than this.”

“Me either, Lou. Shit, ‘m not gonna last.”

“C’mon, Haz,” Louis pants, “get on your back for me. Let me ride you.”

Harry chokes on a whine, his hips stuttering wildly. “ _Nnngh_ …want that, Lou. Want it so fucking much. Want to watch you fuck yourself on my dick.”

He grips the base of his cock to keep the condom in place and pulls out carefully, stroking Louis’ belly all the while. He whispers a soft, sweet, “sorry, ‘m so sorry,” when Louis whines, his body protesting at being left empty, even momentarily.

Mercifully, his disappointment is short-lived because Harry flops onto his back with a huff, giggling as he makes himself comfortable on the bed next to Louis. He bites his lip and looks up at Louis imploringly when he’s settled – curls matted to his forehead and eyes pleading. Louis reaches out to thumb over his swollen lower lip, releasing it from the confines of his teeth, his own lips parting on a heavy exhale as he stares down at Harry. God, he always wants to be looking at him, never, ever wants to stop. His beauty is not something you can get used to after prolonged exposure. If anything, he’s multifaceted like a gem. The more closely you look, the more beautiful he becomes.

Louis withdraws his hand, briefly pressing his fingers to his own lips, then swings one of his legs over Harry to straddle him. His cock slips between Louis’ cheeks and his arms fly above his head, chest heaving as he grips the pillow he’s laying on. He looks completely overcome, almost possessed, squirming and writhing beneath Louis in sweet, breathless anticipation. Admittedly, Louis isn’t faring much better himself, itching to be filled again. He puts them both out of their misery when he reaches back and takes Harry’s cock in his hand, teasing it over his rim to warm himself back up to the feel of it until he’s shivering. With a deep breath, he sinks down onto it, fighting the urge to close his eyes against the delicious pleasure-pain so he can watch Harry’s face. It’s worth the effort, because Harry’s brows knit together and his nostrils flare and his mouth rounds in the shape of an ‘o’ and it’s so fucking _hot_. Louis traces a single finger along the dark trail of hair beneath Harry’s navel that is perfectly framed between his own thighs, and smiles at the way Harry’s abdominal muscles flutter appreciatively. His eyes snap to Louis’ face, his gaze smoldering, lungs still fighting for breath.

“You okay?” He rasps.

“Mm,” Louis intones. “This ain’t my first rodeo, cowboy.”

Harry frowns like the thought of that displeases him. Something indecipherable flashes in his eyes, his expression hardening ever so slightly as if he’s just remembered something. “Thanks for helping me with this, Lou,” he says after a moment. It comes out all wrong, mumbled and impersonal in a way Harry’s voice never is.

“Happy to be of service,” Louis quips, trying to lighten the mood and alleviate some of the tension that has settled in the air around them all of a sudden.

Harry sucks his cheeks in, eyes looking everywhere but Louis’ face. Louis is so confused as to how things have gone south so quickly.

“When you say it like that I feel a little weird,” Harry admits pitifully – voice small and wrought with insecurity.

“I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean anything by it,” Louis assures him earnestly. “I promise I don’t think you’re, like, _using_ me or something.”

“No, Lou, it’s not that,” Harry sighs, frustrated. “It’s just—I feel kind of like I’m taking advantage of you, because you’re just being a good friend and helping me out and it maybe, kind of, means something a bit different to me.”

Hope swells in Louis’ chest without his permission, his heart rate picking up significantly at the implication of Harry’s words. He has to be sure, though, needs Harry to spell it out for him. “What are you saying, Haz?”

Finally, _finally_ , Harry looks at him.

“I’ve fancied you for ages, Lou,” He confesses with a demure little grin. “I know I should have said something before this, you probably feel so uncomfortable now. I’m so sorry. We can stop, let me just—”

“Whoa, babe, slow down. Take a deep breath for me, yeah?”

Harry lets out a shaky exhale – eyes closed, lashes trembling.

“Alright?” Louis asks, sweeping Harry’s sweaty fringe off his forehead and tucking a rogue curl behind his ear. He gives his ear lobe a gentle tug and Harry smiles, slowly blinking his eyes open to look up at Louis. “Better?” Louis checks.

Harry nods shyly, his two front teeth sunk into the already abused flesh of his lower lip.

“Harry, I fancy you too. Have since the day we met, probably. I just never thought I had a chance with you,” Louis admits with a self-deprecating shrug.

“So, let me get this straight. You fancy me, and I fancy you, and we’re—“ Harry swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and looks down to where their bodies are joined. “Should we still be doing this? I mean, now that we, you know... _know_? Like, should we wait? We haven’t even kissed yet and we—“

“Harry, darling?”

“Y-yeah?”

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way...but please stop talking.”

“Okay. Yeah. Right, sorry.”

“C’mere, love. Let me have a go at those gorgeous lips of yours, hmm?”

“Please,” Harry sighs, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Louis. He brings him closer with a gentle hand between his shoulder blades, the other one cradling the back of his head, and then they’re kissing.

Harry kisses fierce and passionate like he only has a minute to live, but also thorough and steady like he’s got a lifetime to explore Louis’ mouth. He’s so full of contradictions and anomalies that Louis can barely keep his head above water, let alone swim. He lets himself sink, feels it when he slips under the surface and is fully consumed. He’s drowning in Harry and yet he’s never felt more alive. Somehow, with Harry’s lips pressed against his, oxygen seems a little less important. What’s important is this – the plush crimson of his lips, the drag of his teeth, the slip of his tongue, the catch in his breath, the top of his lungs.

It’s _life-ruining_ , kissing him like this, and Louis wants to be mad at him for it because he knows he’ll never be able to get better than this. No one else could possibly compare to what he’s found here with Harry. So he’ll just have to keep him, it’s the only logical solution. What other choice does he have? Harry has spoiled him, _wrecked_ him for anyone else. _You break it, you buy it_ , Louis wants to say, _I’m yours now_.

As their kiss grows more heated, Louis starts grinding his hips down on Harry’s cock. Harry gives a long drawn out moan in response before he’s stilling Louis’ movements with a firm hand on his waist. Their lips part with a wet smack, and Louis looks to Harry in confusion, brows furrowed.

“Lou, I’m sorry I just can’t do this without knowing first—like, I know we said we both fancy each other, but what is this to you? Because I don’t know if I could handle this only being a one time thing. Actually, I _know_ I couldn’t handle that. I’d really, really like to take you out properly. Like on a real date. And I’d really like to hold your hand and kiss you and maybe...” Harry trails off, his eyes sliding away from Louis’ and his cheeks colouring with a blush as he mumbles something under his breath.

“What was that, babe? I didn’t quite catch that last bit.”

“I said I would maybe like to be your boyfriend?”

“Is that a question, Harold?”

“No. I mean, yes. Yes and no. No, as in there’s no question about it, because I definitely want to be. But also, yes, because it’s not just up to me, so...can I—”

In the interest of not listening to Harry stutter his way into the next century, Louis interrupts him by pressing a single finger to Harry’s lips, smiling like an absolute loon when he asks, “will you be my boyfriend, Harry?”

“Yes. _God, Lou_ , yes.”

Louis tilts his head to the side and spreads his arms wide in offering. “I’m all yours then.”

Harry squeaks happily, pulling Louis into a tight hug. Louis smiles into Harry’s hair, trying not to let the wild mess of curls suffocate him. He presses a sweet kiss to Harry’s temple and pulls back to frame his face with his hands. “I like you a whole fucking lot, d’ya know that?”

Harry’s smile is this blinding, devastating thing that puts the sun to shame with how bright it is. He presses their foreheads together and sighs,“you too, Lou, I like you too. Very much a lot.”

Louis leans in and gives Harry three kisses in quick succession, tugging Harry’s lip between his teeth on the last one as Harry giggles against his mouth. “Brilliant. Now that that’s sorted, shall we?” Louis says, looking down between their bodies and waggling his brows suggestively.

“As long as you’re sure you still want to.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Shut up and fuck your boyfriend, curly,” he says fondly, pushing at Harry’s chest until he falls back against the mattress.

Harry leisurely folds his arms behind his head, his biceps bulging, and beams up at Louis cheekily.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Louis ribs. “Now that you’ve got me locked down you’re a lazy fuck, huh Styles? Gonna make me do all the work?”

Against all sense of logic and reason, Harry’s smile gets even bigger. “Just enjoying the view,” he chuckles, his cute little dimple indenting his cheek.

Louis leans forward and licks into it. Because _he can_. “Always wanted to do that,” he smirks as Harry laughs and shakes his head at him, shrugging up his shoulder to wipe his cheek against it.

Louis kisses him gently one last time before straightening up to get back to business. Harry is still impossibly hard inside him, his erection hasn’t flagged at all, which is mighty impressive and Louis decides he deserves a reward for that. He starts rolling his hips and digs his fingers into the thick muscles of Harry’s chest to maintain his balance as he rocks against him.

He has always had a bit of an issue with eye contact during sex. He’s not ashamed of his filthy mouth or his needy moans, but something about looking right into his partner’s eyes whilst they’re inside him (or he’s inside them) has always been too much for him to handle. It makes him feel too exposed, too vulnerable, and that’s never been a feeling he has enjoyed. With Harry, though, it’s different. He still feels likes he’s on display, but somehow he doesn’t feel self-conscious about that fact. Harry is looking at him so intensely, but his gaze is soft, his eyes gentle on Louis’ skin like a caress. It’s intimacy, Louis realises, _that’s_ what he’s feeling. There’s a connection between the two of them that makes him feel secure enough to let his guard down. It’s fucking exhilarating, unlike any high he’s ever experienced before.

“Can’t believe I get to have you in my bed like this, Lou,” Harry confides dazedly. “You don’t know how many nights I’ve imagined this. I’d just lie here and touch myself listening to you breathe from across the room and wishing it was your hand, _your mouth_ , on me instead.”

Louis whines at the visual, imagining Harry bucking up into his own fist and biting down hard on his lip to keep quiet, Louis’ name on the tip of his tongue. “Fuck, baby, I know what you mean. I’ve wanked myself raw over you, have wanted this for so long.”

Harry sits up again, his abs crunching in a way that makes Louis’ mouth water. “Now we can have it,” he growls, claiming Louis’ lips in a bruising kiss.

Louis ruts desperately against him, concentrating on only moving his hips so as not to disturb the sweet perfection of their lips sliding together. Their tongues tangle hotly, both of them licking into the other’s mouth like they’re mad for it. Louis gasps when he feels Harry’s thumb brush over his nipple, rubbing back and forth until it stiffens up beneath his touch. Louis breaks off the kiss to pant against Harry’s jaw line. “Use your mouth,” he begs.

Harry complies with a hum, grazing his knuckles down Louis’ sternum then leaning forward to latch his mouth onto one of his nipples, swirling his tongue around the bud and sucking gently. Louis’ hands automatically tangle in his hair, his fingers threading through Harry’s curls to hold him in place. “Yes, fuck. _God_ , Harry,” he whines desperately.

He tilts his head back and stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that Harry insisted they have on their ceiling. He’s so dazed they look like they’re spinning – his own private little universe where everything revolves around his and Harry’s bodies tangled up on the bed.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Harry groans, snapping his hips up hard as Louis screws down to meet him. Harry snakes a hand between them and starts stroking Louis’ cock, pushing him closer and closer to the edge of bliss with every pull. “I want to make you come. Are you—will you come for me, Lou?”

He rubs his thumb over the head of Louis’ cock, pressing into the slit and it’s game over. The heat that’s been simmering in Louis’ belly and pooling at the base of his dick erupts into a blinding inferno and he’s coming in hot streaks, painting both their chests.

Harry’s whole body seizes up and then the tension visibly snaps and he just _explodes_ , pulsing into the condom as he follows Louis right over the edge. Louis sits completely still on Harry’s cock, repeatedly clenching and unclenching his arse to milk Harry’s orgasm from him as he watches his face – pleasure rearranging all his features into a mask of pure ecstasy. Harry’s voice breaks in half on a desperate moan and Louis thinks he may very well have discovered the eighth wonder of the world.

Harry collapses back against the bed, pulling Louis down with him and holding him to his chest. They come down together, silent as they wait for their breathing to regulate and their heart rates to slow.

“Wow,” Harry sighs happily, “that was—yeah, wow.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, darling,” Louis agrees, nuzzling into Harry’s neck and inhaling deeply.

His scent is intoxicating, Louis has always thought so, but it’s sharper now, heightened by his arousal and mixed with subtle notes of Louis’ scent. The whole room smells like sweat, like sex, like _them_. Louis wants to bottle it.

Harry rolls them carefully so Louis is on his back with Harry hovering over him. “Be right back,” he promises with a kiss, climbing off the bed and presumably heading for the bathroom.

He returns a few moments later, sans condom and with a warm, wet flannel. He uses it to wipe the mess off of Louis’ chest, then positions himself between Louis’ legs and carefully runs it over his spent cock until he’s completely clean. Harry smiles up at him and tosses the flannel to the floor, ducking his head between Louis’ thighs to kiss his sore rim. Louis keens quietly, his hand pushing into Harry’s curls and scratching at his scalp as Harry laps his tongue over the raw skin to soothe it. Harry leaves him with one more lingering kiss before he crawls back up Louis’ body and rests his head on his chest, right over his heart.

“So, _boyfriend_ ,” Louis says meaningfully, loving how the word tastes on his tongue, “do you wanna go watch the rest of that _Walking Dead_ episode or are you too knackered?” 

Harry lifts his head off Louis’ chest and grimaces, scrunching his nose up in that adorable way of his Louis loves so much. “Full disclosure?” He asks, biting his lip until Louis nods in encouragement. “I only watch that show so I can have an excuse to be all over you. Truthfully, it gives me nightmares.” 

Louis barks out a loud laugh, shaking his head in fond disbelief. “Harry Edward Styles, you sly little minx,” he teases, tugging at one of Harry’s curls. “Aw, babe, you didn’t have to subject yourself to that if it upset you.” 

Harry shrugs, “just wanted to be close to you.” 

“You’re really something, y’know that?” 

Harry flutters his eyelashes against Louis’ skin in a butterfly kiss, making Louis squirm. Harry kisses his shoulder in silent apology, digging his chin into Louis’ chest to look up at him. “So,” he drawls after a moment, “since we seem to be doing things backwards should I skip the whole asking you out on a date bit and just go straight to proposing instead?” 

“Don’t be a cheap skate, Styles. I deserve a proper proposal with a ring and all that sappy clichéd romantic shit. You better not cheat me out of the experience.” 

Harry smirks. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Lou.” 

“I’m serious. I’m talking candles and rose petals and serenading…I want the whole nine yards, curly.” 

Harry’s eyes light up mischievously, and Louis just knows he’s about to say something ridiculous. He bites down on his grin, trying to quell the overwhelming fondness he feels for this absurd, beautiful boy. It’s a lost cause. 

“I don’t know about nine yards,” Harry teases, “but I can certainly give you nine inches.” He beams like a fucking kid on Christmas, obviously amused by his own cleverness. 

Louis is in love with an idiot. _Shit_. Louis is _in love_ with an idiot – with Harry. _Louis is in love with Harry._ Somehow, he can’t bring himself to be scared about that fact. He lets the feeling wash over him, tries it on for size now that he fully recognises it for what it is, and finds he feels nothing but peace at the realisation. _He loves Harry_. He thinks he probably has for a while now. 

“You are utterly ridiculous,” Louis accuses belatedly, his words belied by the way he kisses the corner of Harry’s mouth and smiles so hard his eyes crinkle up. 

“You love it,” Harry retorts. 

 _Yeah_ , Louis thinks as he gets lost in the pale mint depths of his boy’s eyes, _yeah I do_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I love comments/kudos like Harry loves Gucci, so if you want to make my day here's your chance :) 
> 
> P.S. If you’re following my current WIP, don’t worry I promise I haven’t abandoned it. I meant to have the next chapter posted this weekend, but there’s one part I’m just not entirely happy with so I needed to step away for a bit and write something else to clear my head. It will be up soon, promise!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here.](https://seducemymind-findmysoul.tumblr.com/) Don't be shy, come say hi! I'm new and I'd love to chat/make some friends :)


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